She doesn’t know.
Oh, she doesn’t know...
my brush got tangled in it’s self.
I got tangled in music and I painted a picture of her.
My brush learned to be less of a brute
and I painted her.
The poem about her,
is ten layers of washed, drawn, washed,
scumbled...
Painted love!
So I’m not a poet,
I’m a mad scientist,
a crazy artist,
Give me a god damn break!
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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Well Done
Reading this to me, shows the sometimes illogical and irrational things we are caused to do when we get infected by that damn "L" word.
Perhaps another avenue of chaos....
If I might also suggest changing the background image ot the main font colour... as I am having difficulty distinguishing the text from the background.
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WOW!! Love the imagery, leave it at that..don't beg!!
Put it out there,look'em in the eye, and dare them to create something better!!
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ah how often that happens, we are all just crazy artists who the world deems to be poets, you know the world and its obsession with categories. Painted love, ha I like that line gives connotations of things but at the same time is sweet like an artists brush strokes, I love your poems great job.
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